The Raven
by Devastate
Summary: Er... Kind of a cross between Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven' and the issue of habitat destruction of animals... It's weird.


The raven's yellow eyes gleamed from the topmost branch of a great oak. She cawed at the sky; she cawed at the earth, but no life stirred to answer her. A cold night wind brushed through her heart, sharpening her intelligent eyes. She saw the brilliant light of the city below, which the humans had built over her old haunts. The delicate silver birch she had been born in was no more, and she would not raise her own children in the nighttime shadow the moonlight threw upon the dead forest. She gave a last cry of grief, and the trembling caw was more than a substitute for tears she could not spill.

Thea's dark wings stirred the smoky fog, sweeping the she-raven into the air, riding on the breath of the wind. She hovered above the night, and all the streetlights throwing into shine the roads, glittering from the evening rain.

_Where shall I hunt?_Thea said to herself.

A nighttime jogger was pounding through the black puddles, flinging droplets of water onto the fallen leaves that reminded Thea of the tree she grew up in, whose gray bark shimmered after even the lightest rain. A faint glow always hung around the ghost tree, keeping in the memory of every bird that passed it the great history of this 'raven tree.'

The jogger was slowing at an intersection, shining white earphones plugged deep into his ears. Sweat and rain poured down his face, and the burly body heaved with the effort of running.

_Yes._Thea attached her senses to the running man.

As the crescent moon smiled upon the city, the raven lowered herself to a streetlight pole above the roads. The stretched and skewed shadow that fell upon the black concrete gleamed for a moment in the light, then sank into the river of night. With it went any of Thea's lasting indecision at what she was to do. Her home, and the home of the children she would never have, was destroyed because of the city. Those who had built it were at fault, and she must avenge the loss of her world.

_It could never be the same._

As the jogger approached, sending enough warning so that he might have been an entire drum-line, Thea opened her eyes wide. She groped inside herself, searching for the waves of regret and agony pulsing through her veins, in the core of her soul. Summoning the will of her hunt, she silently tracked the path of the runner. A cold beak and wings pierced the man's mind, and he shook it to clear his head, but Thea already had his planned trail. She was the fastest tracker in her family, and therefore became the last remaining raven of the haunted forest neighboring the city; all other relations had been killed by the people living here. Thea could sneak up undetected, then fly away unscathed. The others had been caught and killed while hunting or tracking.

Thea was hunting tonight. She wanted to give payment to the ones who had shaken her own life to the roots.

The jogger slowed his pace, still not sensing Thea's presence. The earphones in his head vibrated in a sharp beat, giving a clear indication of where Thea should fly. She followed him to a large Victorian dwelling in the wealthy area of the neighborhood, settling herself on a windowsill outside the room with the strongest scent of the man. His bedroom.

The raven waited one hour, then another. Finally, she heard a faint tapping of footsteps. The jogger must now be going to bed. It was time to act.

_Tap._Thea rapped sharply on the glass window. The bustling inside stopped.

The raven reached into the man's thoughts, removing… "_She used to do that; she used to tap on my window at night. She's gone… It's only a branch hitting the window."_

Encouraged, Thea rapped more firmly.

_"It's not her. It can't be her. Selene is dead!"_

Another few taps.

_"Could it be her spirit? Has she come to visit me?"_

Thea pounded the glass as hard as she could.

A bustling awoke in the room, and at long last, a grief-stricken, brown-haired face appeared at the window and pulled it open.

_Here I am._Fearless, Thea strode inside, fluttering onto a leather-bound photo album resting on a desk.

"Raven," said the man."I thought you were my dead wife."

"Your wife is dead," returned Thea. Inside, she thought, _So is my family._

"Selene was beautiful. Her eyes were silver and her hair glowed in darkness. I must see her again."

Quoth Thea: "Nevermore."

The raven herself saw Selena's beautiful dark curls quite clearly, feeding off the man's thoughts, but he would slowly forget her image, until he would forget how to recognize her in an old photograph of theirs.

"How do you know? I must at least meet her in heaven."

"Nevermore," sang Thea.

"In my dreams, in my thoughts."

"Nevermore," croaked the raven.

"Raven, fly away. You speak nonsense."

"Nevermore," Thea said in a hiss quite unlike the sweet voice she used to possess.

The shadow of the raven on the rug seemed to enlarge until there was no end to it. The desk lamp the man hurriedly flung open went out.

"_Yes…"_cried Thea. The exquisite mists of the night sky seemed to agree with her. They swirled through the open window, engulfing the man with an eerie wail. Yet the mists were far from opaque; they were as clear as the water of a summer lake, only forming white ripples when a breeze cast itself upon the surface of the liquid. Darkness continued to cloud the man's heart, while Thea watched on, satisfied.

When the man closed his eyes, the fog receded.

_Here we are._

"I will never see Selene again?" The man put a finger to his temple, trying to squeeze out his hallucination of a raven visiting his bedroom.

"Nevermore," whispered Thea through the gate.

"No…"

_Surrender. You've taken my world. It's time for me to take yours._

"Nevermore."


End file.
